


Choices

by thechaoscryptid



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate universe-Deep Space 9, Bottom Shiro, Fake Dating, Galra Shiro, He's just a mess okay, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Shiro (Voltron), and Keith loves him, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechaoscryptid/pseuds/thechaoscryptid
Summary: Keith's always been the wild child of the renewed Rift Station between Daibazaal and Altea, his penchant for finding troublelegendary. Shiro never expected to be pulled into his shenanigans until one day, he found himself being roped into being Keith's "partner."Now, one year later, it's their "anniversary," and he finds himself held captive by the way Keith's dangling the promise ofmorein front of him.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 122
Collections: Ace Pilot Exchange 2019





	Choices

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kika988](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kika988/gifts).



> Happy holidays, Kika, from your Ace Pilot Secret Santa 😁❤ Wasn't able to work _quite_ as much Star Trek in as I thought, but a little is there for you!

Not  _ all  _ of Shiro’s choices are made well. He blunders occasionally, throws his hands in the air with frustration at what he’s done, but it usually turns out okay. Fixable. Manageable, if not, and he prides himself in being able to go with the flow and take care of every situation. It’s why he was selected for the station, after all--what better than a security officer who can figure things out quickly?

His continuous decisions about Keith, though…

Shiro’s choice to go along with this fake dating scheme for one day wasn’t smart. The remainder of the week was even less so, and every day after that has truly been an exercise in futility as he struggles with himself. He supposes that he can spin it to some as  _ keeping careful watch over a thief,  _ but that’s not quite right either. 

_ Keep him safe. _

_ Keep him in line. _

_ Keep...falling… _

No one could truly  _ keep _ Keith, and the fact that after a year he’s still kept up the facade with Shiro makes Shiro think that perhaps, there’s more to his side of the story than  _ you’re a great friend, big guy. _

Keith’s due back to the station any minute now, and as he always seems to, Shiro waits. It’s during these quiet moments alone that Shiro considers coming clean to Krolia, telling her his relationship with her son isn’t all it seems, but she looks so  _ happy _ when she sees them, and the thought flits away quick as Keith in the face of trouble.

Shiro wonders what sort of extra cargo he’ll be packing this time. Last time it had been a case of a rare Altean wine for Morvok at the bar and a wolf he  _ swears  _ just teleported onto the ship. The trip prior, it had been a statue made from an asteroid in the Golarian belt he’d  _ insisted  _ was a gift.

Shiro can’t remember what the exact lie had been, but he  _ does  _ remember how Chancellor Garron’s fury had rung from the viewscreen like a low-hanging quintessence storm as he demanded his property back.

_ Manage him,  _ Krolia had asked the day Shiro was roped into this whole business.  _ He seems to really like you--perhaps you’re the one who can tame that heart of his.  _ She’d clicked her tongue and wandered off muttering about how Keith was just like his father, and from that day, Shiro’s found himself doing the best he can to juggle station duties, Keith, and the feelings he’s doing a  _ stunningly  _ awful job at keeping buried.

_ “Bridge to Shiro,”  _ shocks him from his thoughts, and he presses his comm badge.

“Shiro here.”

Kolivan’s voice holds all the weariness in the world as he announces Keith’s ship is docking at one of the upper pylons.  _ “Please make sure he doesn’t cause too big a stir this time. I’d hate to have a repeat of his last trip.” _

Last trip, when the very decidedly Not Stolen, Not Wild wolf had nearly caused a station-wide panic when it stole a raw targ leg from Vrepit Sal’s and sprinted around the Promenade with saliva and blood dripping to the floor.

Shiro acknowledges and nearly topples his chair, he stands so quickly. He gives himself a quick once-over, poking and prodding at the stubborn patch of hair over his forehead that never seems to stay properly put. With an irritated grunt, he decides to leave it be and snatches the neatly wrapped box from the end table before zipping out the door. 

People of all sorts wave to him as he walks by, but he has eyes only for the lift at the end of the station. It's so  _ slow  _ as it takes him to the upper decks, he thinks idly, his shoes clicking quickly over the floor as he makes his way to the docking bay. He hadn’t  _ meant  _ to fall for Keith, of course--it was supposed to be a quick thing, over at a moment’s notice. But it was so easy, what with Krolia telling him tales when Keith was off station and the way Keith stayed plastered to his side when he was here to resupply.

Thankfully, he’s been taking pity on Shiro’s poor heart recently and staying for more than a day at a time.

Shiro lays his ears back and crosses his arms as he leans against the wall, examining his nails and pretending to ignore the sound of docking clamps engaging and airlocks opening. He does a damn good job, too, doesn’t let hope flicker over his face even when Morvok walks by and taunts him about his lover.

_ Not quite. _

The metal of the station is cool on the fur of Shiro’s cheek as he lets his eyes flicker to the base of the door, where he can see Keith’s feet moving around in the airlock. There’s no wolf that he can see, and he breathes a soft sigh of relief. No cleaning up targ leg carnage this time, with any luck.

Shiro  _ wants,  _ so much, to open the door and take Keith into his arms, kissing him like it’s their last day alive, but…

Keith is not his to do that with.

Not yet.

What he  _ is,  _ however, is coming through the door with a wide grin splitting his face. “Shiro,” he says. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” Shiro chirps. “Baby,” he tacks on, catching Romelle watching from the hall. He holds his arms out, and the way Keith falls into them so quickly makes his chest ache. Shiro rubs his cheek over the crown of Keith’s head, gently scenting him while he still has the chance. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, big guy,” Keith says, and Shiro  _ doesn’t  _ preen at the way Keith pats his chest and beams up at him.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he breathes deep the scent of smoke and oil and all things Keith before letting him go and fumbling for the box tucked under his arm. “Happy anniversary,” he says, pushing it into Keith’s hands. “Or, well…” He looks around, dropping his voice even though they’re alone. “What would have been, if…”

“If what?” Keith murmurs, intent on turning the box over and over. He rattles it before Shiro stills his hand, and his eyes flick up to meet Shiro’s. “It’s still  _ an  _ anniversary.”

Shiro scrubs a hand over the back of his neck, wrinkling his nose as he tries not to look too upset about the state Keith’s presence is already putting him in. “Yeah, true.”

“So.” Keith gives up his futile attempt to see what’s in the box and links their arms instead, stepping out into the hallway and guiding Shiro back to the lift. “What’s in the box, Shiro? Something special just for me?”

Shiro knows better than to read into the words, the look in Keith’s eyes. It’s just a little harmless flirting, the same sort he’s been through this whole last year. He’s used to the violet embers burning in Keith’s eyes, the secret and small smiles, because he is most definitely  _ not  _ courting Keith.

It’s helping a friend settle down, even if he wishes _settling down_ meant _settling down_ _in his bed._

They amble around the station like that for a while as Keith remarks on the new banners for Deliverance Day, the state of Morvok’s entryway, the way Shiro’s  _ stupid  _ hair won’t stay down. Keith’s fingers tangle in the unruly bit of mane, and Shiro does his best not to lean into the touch as he basks in the sound of Keith’s quiet laughter. When he’s satisfied it’s not going to do as he wishes, Keith links their arms again and orders Shiro to take him to the place he calls home when he’s on the station.

Shiro’s quarters.

Shiro bites back a whine as he watches Keith lays himself on the floor, legs pressed up against the bed and feet dangling in the air. He pauses in the doorway to take in the way Keith’s arms flex as he continues to roll the box in his gloved hands. “You don’t have to open it, you know,” he blurts, but hopes Keith will. He longs for the joy he's imagined breaking across his face at what’s inside. “I mean, uh, you could just...keep it for show.”

“Nah,” Keith says. He finally digs under the paper with a nail, prying it open and crumpling the wrapping before tossing it carelessly to the side. “You got it for me, and I want to know what it is.”

Shiro’s nails dig into his palms in anticipation.

“Now…” Keith shakes the box again and when it still doesn't rattle, purses his lips. “What is it?”

“Yours,” Shiro says before he can stop himself.

Keith looks at him, confused.

“It’s...just open it,” Shiro mumbles. His ears flatten and he ducks his head, padding past Keith to perch on the bed with his legs tucked up to his chest. “Something I found I thought you’d like.”

Something he caught Keith looking at, in fact, and Keith’s breath hitches in his chest when the silver throwing stars are revealed. “Shiro, you shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to,” Shiro says. “You deserve good things.”

Keith lays the box on his stomach, eyes slipping shut as the happiness in them dulls to a low flicker. “So do you,” he says softly.

“I have good things.”

“You deserve better, I mean, Shiro.” Keith’s fingers drum on the box and he cracks an eye at Shiro’s concerned noise. “Be honest. Are you happy with the way things are? The way  _ we  _ are?”

Shiro’s tongue flits out to wet his lips, his ears flicking back and forth along with his eyes as he tries to summon the wherewithal to  _ lie _ . “It’s…”

“Not ideal?” Keith asks, and again, Shiro is floored by the way he’s able to ferret out the roots of truth from the simplest statements.

Shiro gestures vaguely with his hand, canines cutting into his bottom lip as he gives a tense smile. “It’s better than nothing?”

Keith begins to speak as though in protest, and Shiro’s thin thread of control snaps.

“I’d rather be with you in  _ some  _ capacity than  _ no  _ capacity, okay?” he blurts, burying his face in his hands.

“I--you-- _ oh,”  _ Keith breathes, and Shiro peeks through his fingers to see surprise painted across Keith’s face. “Like, you...you actually... _ want  _ me?”

“Is that so hard to understand?” Shiro grumbles.

“No, I just…” Keith’s head flops back down, and the thud on the floor sounds like it hurts. “I was actually going to talk to you about it after we had dinner or something, but that’s, um...I guess we should do it now?”

“Or we could do it over dinner,” Shiro says, mentally tallying the minutes it will give him to prepare. “Replicator, or Vrepit Sal’s.”

Keith groans. “I’ve been eating replicator food for weeks now, and Sal told me not to come back after the wolf incident. Can’t we go to Morvok’s?”

“And risk food poisoning?”  
“Yeah, you’re right, I guess,” Keith says, and _there’s_ the fondness in his voice that Shiro dreams of. “That’d be a great welcome home present, being bent over the toilet the whole time I’m here.”

Shiro’s fingers itch with the want to be buried in the soft braid Keith wears, but he finds himself unable to move from where he’s sitting. “So...what about wanting me?”

Keith buries his face in his hands and shakes his head, and Shiro sees a flush creeping over what skin is bared.

“Keith?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to  _ actually  _ be with me,” Keith says, all one word, and curls in on himself. “Like, for real this time. Even after I sort of took advantage of you for a year. I mean, it’s that or tell mom we’re done, because--”

Shiro’s knees hit the floor as he falls to Keith’s side, pulling his hands away. Keith’s cherry red, eyes screwed shut until the rough pad of Shiro’s thumb runs over the curve of his cheek. “Because?” Shiro asks, and Keith cracks an eye.

“Because it was a shitty thing to do, making you go along with it, and I want you for real?”

“I…” Shiro finds himself at a loss for words, things too tangled in his head as he holds Keith’s wrists. “No?” he says, and immediately kicks himself when Keith shrinks. “I mean no, it wasn’t a shitty thing! Well, weird, strange, but you didn’t  _ make  _ me, I could’ve told Krolia at any time, you know, and I...well…” He takes a deep breath to halt the babbling and get himself in order. “I like you a lot, Keith, enough to wait for you to come back whenever you leave the station.”

Keith cracks his other eye. “You do?”

Shiro shrugs and lets him go when he realizes he’s still holding him. “Yeah. Even though you’re not exactly a paragon of virtue, with your, uh...side business.”

Keith sucks in a breath through his teeth. “It’s not bad.”

“Keith.”

“Well...not  _ usually,”  _ Keith amends. “It’s for the good of the galaxy.”

“And your pockets, I’m sure,” Shiro says. 

“I don’t belong to the Federation, technically, so I’m not held to the same standards you are.” Keith crosses his arms and looks pointedly away with his nose in the air, and Shiro catches a smile threatening to break across his face. “What a life, though, huh? It’s  _ fun,  _ Shiro. And I never take anything of real value.”

“Even the statue of Garron?” Shiro asks.

Keith sends him a sideways glance. “Absalom inhabitants deserved to know he’s a corrupt piece of shit. I did my work in exposing that. Did you know the statue was hiding evidence of his collaboration with Zarkon in it?”  
Shiro shakes his head.

“He’s gone, but they’d continued to create a machine that can eat entire quadrants, Shiro,” Keith says. “I’ve got to say--it feels a lot better dealing in petty theft and exposing someone rather than being sucked into a star destroyer.”

“And the Altean wine?” Shiro’s heart jumps into his throat as Keith shuffles over to tentatively lay his head on Shiro’s thigh. “Exposing more tyrants?”  
“No, that was just delicious, and it’s not as though they can’t make more,” Keith says with a grin. “Acceptable?”

“Mn.” The way Keith’s warmth is soaking into Shiro, his scent threatening to send him spiralling into madness, is making it hard for Shiro to consider he’s supposed to be  _ discouraging _ this behavior, not accepting it along with the quiet caress of Keith’s gloved hand on the inside of his thigh. He supposes it isn’t all bad, then. Keith’s right--these things  _ are  _ preferable to obliteration. 

He peers up at Shiro through dark lashes, a mischievous look slipping across his face. “Can I ask you a question?”

Shiro doesn’t like the look, but like a lovesick fool, says yes.

“When’s the last time you got laid?”

Shiro chokes. There’s no two ways about it--he jackknifes forward as his air’s suddenly cut off, as though the station decided life support was no longer needed and had instead chosen to open itself to the vacuum of space instead.  _ “What?” _

“Sex, Shiro. I’m talking about sex.”

“I--you--” Shiro wheezes, and Keith thumps a hand on his chest. “You can’t just spring that on me! We were having a moment!”

Keith shrugs, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I’d like to have more moments with you.”

“Like me dying on you because you  _ constantly  _ come up with new ways to torture me?” Shiro asks, finally a bit more under control. “What sort of question is that?”

“One I’m hoping to get an answer to.”

Shiro scrubs his hands over his face and shakes his head, desperately trying to keep the blood rushing south to where Keith’s face is  _ right there  _ next to his very interested cock.  _ Longer than I should have gone,  _ he wants to say, because it was years even before Keith, but all he manages to squeak out is, “A while ago.”

“And you’re off for the next few days?”

“Mhmm.” He’s supposed to be watching Keith as he roams the station, but the way Keith’s talking, he hopes there won’t be much roaming going on. “I was looking forward to spending it with you.”

“Come down to Altea with me,” Keith says softly, reaching up to brush through the fur on Shiro’s cheeks and making Shiro’s ears twitch happily. “Two days. We’ll go camping. You like camping, right?”

“I like spending time with you,” Shiro says, flushing. Any discomfort from camping is bound to be either eased by the comfort of Keith, or blown away by a greater discomfort stemming from figuring out this burgeoning thing between them.

“Perfect.” Keith presses his face into Shiro’s thigh, and Shiro  _ tries  _ not to whine at the feeling, he really does. 

He fails, though.

“What’s up, Shiro?” Keith asks. 

“Why now?” Shiro says in a rush. 

"Because we're both tired of waiting,” Keith says. He turns onto his back and runs his knuckles up and down Shiro’s arm, losing himself in the motion as Shiro begins to purr in contentment. “You’re cute when you do that.”

Shiro stops. “What?”

“Don’t  _ stop,”  _ Keith grouses, and he sits up to track his fingers up Shiro’s arm and over his neck, only stopping when he hits the patch of fur just below Shiro’s ear. He hit it once before, when he was drunk and Shiro was letting him explore, and apparently he remembers the way Shiro leaned into the touch then just as he does now. 

Keith’s fingers feel so  _ good  _ that Shiro can’t help the way he arches, baring his neck for more of the blunt scratch of Keith’s nails. It’s been a good many years since he’s had anyone touch him like this, so simply, and he lets the rumble building in his chest roll through the room as his eyes slip shut. Any passing thought he’d had about what exactly Keith has in store for him is shooed away, forced out by the way Keith leans closer, his breath warm on Shiro’s chest as he lays his head down. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Sweet.”

Shiro’s throat works around a swallow as Keith’s hand begins to drop, skimming over his collarbones to rest where the hollow of his throat vibrates evenly. “Mm,” is all he can manage, and Keith takes that as the consent it’s meant as. 

He has to stretch a little to reach Shiro’s lips, and Shiro peeks at the furrow of concentration before Keith removes his hand and presses up on his knees instead, taking Shiro’s face in both hands. “I want to kiss you.”

Shiro’s eyes flick down to where Keith’s tongue wets his lips. He takes a moment to appreciate their delicate curve before deciding enough waiting is enough and pulling Keith into his lap. His arms wrap around Keith’s body as he presses his mouth to Keith’s, moaning softly at the way Keith’s fingers knot in his hair. 

“Good,” Keith whispers when they part. His eyes are wide when he looks at Shiro, happy and bright in the dim lighting of the bedroom. “That’s...Shiro.” He brings Shiro close again and there’s a definite heat in the way he kisses, hands roaming as his tongue flicks out to trace the seam of Shiro’s lips.  _ “Shiro.” _

“Keith,” Shiro murmurs.

“I don’t think I want to wait until Altea to fuck you,” Keith says. He rolls his hips against Shiro’s stomach, whining softly when he slumps back down and feels Shiro’s hardness pressing against his thigh. “Wanna use your bed properly?”

Shiro nods. His hands splay along the length of Keith’s spine, and the way it feels so  _ small  _ makes him shiver pleasantly. “Please.”

Keith kisses him again, fingers falling back to the spots under Shiro’s ears that make him melt. He sags back against the bed, letting Keith take control. The fabric of Keith’s shirt bunches under his fingers as Keith hits nearer to his pulse, and Shiro begins to purr into the kiss as Keith grinds down on him.

A year of waiting isn’t so bad, not when it culminates in these sorts of things.

“I’ve thought about it for a while,” Keith admits after a few minutes. “Asking you to…”

“Why’d you wait?” Shiro grabs Keith’s ass, tugging it forward so Keith’s completely plastered against him. “I would’ve said yes any time after I watched you argue with Kolivan that Allura should be allowed to go back to Altea for that festival.”

“Shiro, that was  _ months  _ ago,” Keith says, disbelieving as he ticks on his fingers. “That was... _ nine _ months ago?”

Shiro feels himself heat with a flush, and he buries his head in the junction of Keith’s shoulder. “You were so passionate,” he says. “Always have been. I like that. I like you.  _ Have  _ liked you.”

“Idiot,” Keith says, so fondly Shiro can’t find it in him to scold. “Kiss me again.”

Shiro does. Shiro kisses him breathless, and then wraps Keith in his arms to stand and fall back on the bed, Keith on hands and knees above him. “Hi,” he says, wondrous. 

“Hey, big guy,” Keith murmurs. His head dips so he can skim his lips across Shiro’s jaw as he searches for his hands, spreading their arms on the bed with a happy hum. “Want to take your clothes off for me?”

“No.”

“Oh, I--” Keith’s brows knit, his mouth twisting in a confused frown.

“I want you to do it for me.” Shiro grins up at Keith, watching the confusion drain away, replaced by something heated. “Your turn to repay favors.”

“Oh, shut up,” Keith says, but there’s no irritation as he leans back. “I suppose I deserve that.”

Shiro wiggles back into the pillows and shuts his eyes, putting his hands behind his head as he sticks his nose in the air. “And I deserve to be spoiled after putting up with you for a year.”

“Cute,” Keith says again, and Shiro chuckles.

“Try saying it when I’m sprawled over you and snoring in your ear later,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth as Keith’s fingers explore the thin, downy fur of his stomach. “Ooh, that feels good,” he breathes. 

“And this?” Keith tugs Shiro’s hips up and his pants down, knuckles brushing over where Shiro’s leaking against the elastic of his underwear. Shiro nods quickly when he does it again, hips chasing the friction before Keith presses him down to the bed. 

“Keith~”

“Shirt off,” Keith orders.

Shiro obeys.

Keith’s gaze roams just ahead of his hands, mapping out every mark and scar that Shiro bears with pride. He’s still got his clothes on, and the rasp of fabric against skin as Keith explores is music to Shiro’s ears. Shiro lets himself sink into the feeling, lets his thoughts and inhibitions fall away under the calloused pads of Keith’s fingers and the warm leather of his gloves. He doesn’t stop the noises he wants to make, either--trills, chirps, and purrs fill the space between them, each one drawn out by the hands that hold Shiro’s entire heart.

He’s completely lax on the bed by the time Keith disrobes, floating amongst gentle waves of pleasure and so far away he nearly doesn’t hear Keith asking where his lube is. 

“Shiro? Lube?”

In response, Shiro flops over onto his chest and reaches for the nightstand drawer, cursing the bottle that keeps slipping out of reach. He’s halfway to  _ actually  _ getting up to find it before Keith’s hand covers his and assists him.

“Spoiling, remember?” Keith murmurs. His lips press against the back of Shiro’s neck, curving up in a smile at Shiro’s noise of assent. “This okay?”

Cool fingers press against Shiro, slicked and ready and waiting until he nods to push inside. The noise that’s punched out of Shiro really  _ should  _ be embarrassing, but he lifts his hips from the bed to open himself for  _ more.  _ “Sooo okay,” he groans. 

It really  _ has  _ been too long. 

Shiro luxuriates in the feeling of Keith’s fingers in him, and in the soft moans of pleasure Keith lets out between kisses along Shiro’s spine. He slurs out a string of nonsense as he’s spread open, careless whispers about how good Keith feels and how good he  _ is,  _ because even though he’s a troublemaker, Shiro can’t find it in himself to call Keith  _ bad. _

Words escape him when Keith takes his fingers away and replaces them with his cock. Well, that’s not specifically true--he  _ thinks  _ words escape him, until he realizes the cry of  _ “oh, gods,”  _ ringing around the room came from him. 

Shiro understands where all of Keith’s Galra blood fled to.

Very clearly.

Very  _ loudly. _

He lets out a shuddering sigh as Keith’s hands smooth over the small of his back, allowing him some time to adjust to the rather large intrusion. Keith makes a small noise when Shiro flexes his hips, clenching around the length inside of him. “Still okay?” he asks, straining for normalcy.

“Keith--” Shiro reaches back, fingers sliding against Keith’s for a split second before he braces himself on both forearms.  _ “Fuck me.” _

Keith rolls his hips forward, slowly at first, then quicker as Shiro begs him for harder.  _ This... _ this is what Shiro’s been longing for. Keith’s hand spreads between his shoulder blades and presses his chest to the mattress, face plastered to the pillow to mask the sounds that drip from his lips as he's fucked into oblivion.

When all is said and done and they’re laying together, limbs tangled under fresh sheets, Shiro cups Keith’s cheek in a large palm and smiles. “Worth putting up with your shenanigans for,” he says, leaning in for a languid kiss. “And even going camping for.”

“I don’t want to move from this bed,” Keith grumbles. “Fuck camping, let’s just nest in here for the next month.”

“I think station officials would have something to say about me missing that much work.” Shiro rubs their noses together and ruffles his fingers through the back of Keith’s hair. “I wouldn’t say no to more of that, though. We can stay here as long--” He presses his lips to Keith’s forehead. “As you want.”

“Oh?”

“Within reason.”

Keith’s laugh rumbles through his chest and into Shiro as his arm drapes over Shiro’s side. “And who’s the judge of what’s reasonable?”

“Certainly not you,” Shiro teases, shuffling just the slightest bit closer. “And probably not me. You’re not exactly a reasonable choice, hm?”  
“Mmm.” A small, satisfied small falls across Keith’s lips as his eyes drop to Shiro’s chest. “But am I a _good_ one, that’s the question.”

Though Shiro knows not every choice he makes can be a good one, he can’t think of any other answer than, “Yes, Keith. You’re my best choice.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments always read and _very_ much appreciated, and I always do my best to get back to them ❤️
> 
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